Chapter 4 - GIOVANNI’S FIRST TESTIMONY
The neurologist reached the estate just before midnight.
Dr. Enzo Bellucci arrived by helicopter after Lorenzo sent a snowplow team to clear a landing area near the south lawn.
He had treated Giovanni after the original stroke five years earlier.
The moment he saw Giovanni tracking movement with his eyes and deliberately responding with his finger, his professional calm cracked.
“This is not possible.”
Lorenzo stood behind him.
“My father is doing it.”
“I can see that.”
“Then explain why nobody knew.”
Dr. Bellucci looked uncomfortable.
“I evaluated him repeatedly during the first eighteen months.”
“And?”
“His responses were inconsistent.”
Nora stood beside Giovanni.
“They aren't inconsistent now.”
The doctor looked at her.
“Who are you?”
“The maid.”
Giovanni moved one finger.
Dr. Bellucci stared.
Nora smiled faintly.
“I think he objects to ‘the maid.’”
Lorenzo's mouth almost moved.
Dr. Bellucci pulled a chair over.
For nearly an hour, he tested Giovanni.
One blink for yes.
Two for no.
Finger movements.
Visual tracking.
Recognition.
Language comprehension.
Memory.
The results were startling.
Giovanni knew the year.
He knew who the president was.
He recognized Lorenzo, Matteo, Dr. Bellucci, and old photographs.
He could answer mathematical questions.
He remembered events from before and after the stroke.
Dr. Bellucci finally leaned back.
“This appears to be a severe motor-output disorder with preserved cognition. Possibly a form of locked-in presentation complicated by expressive aphasia.”
Lorenzo stared.
“In English.”
“His mind is there.”
Nora felt tears prick her eyes.
Lorenzo's face hardened.
“It has always been there?”
“I can't know that.”
Giovanni moved one finger.
Yes.
The entire room went silent.
Lorenzo turned away.
He walked to the window.
Nora saw his shoulders tighten.
Five years.
Five years of visits where Lorenzo had spoken in front of his father believing he was talking to a mind that no longer understood.
Five years of decisions.
Arguments.
Confessions.
Maybe apologies.
Giovanni had heard all of them.
Dr. Bellucci whispered, “My God.”
Giovanni moved two fingers.
No.
Nora laughed softly despite the tension.
The doctor almost smiled.
Within another hour, they brought in an adaptive communication board.
Letters were arranged in sections.
Giovanni could indicate rows and letters through eye movement.
It was slow.
Painfully slow.
But for the first time in five years, Giovanni Moretti could form words.
His first sentence took eleven minutes.
FIRE GABLE.
Lorenzo stared at the board.
Nora covered her mouth.
Matteo looked toward the hallway where Mrs. Gable was being guarded.
Lorenzo crouched beside his father.
“You want her gone?”
YES.
“Because she abused you?”
YES.
“Did she work for Marco Bellanti?”
Giovanni’s eyes selected letters.
YES.
“How long?”
Years.
He eventually spelled:
BEFORE STROKE.
Lorenzo became completely still.
“What?”
Giovanni rested.
Then continued.
GABLE REPORTING HOUSE.
Matteo swore under his breath.
Lorenzo’s jaw tightened.
“Did she cause your stroke?”
Giovanni stared.
No answer.
Dr. Bellucci said gently, “He may be fatigued.”
Giovanni forced another response.
DON’T KNOW.
Lorenzo nodded.
“Did Marco Bellanti know you could understand people?”
YES.
Nora felt cold.
“Mrs. Gable knew too?”
YES.
“How?”
Giovanni communicated slowly.
CAUGHT HER STEALING FILE.
SQUEEZED HAND.
SHE SAW.
Nora’s stomach twisted.
Mrs. Gable had not merely neglected Giovanni.
She had discovered that he was aware.
“What did she do?” Lorenzo asked.
Giovanni’s eyes moved.
DRUGGED ME.
Dr. Bellucci sat up.
“What?”
Giovanni repeated.
DRUGGED.
Lorenzo’s face became terrifyingly calm.
“What drugs?”
Giovanni could not name them.
Dr. Bellucci stood.
“I want his medication records.”
Matteo left immediately.
Nora understood.
If Giovanni’s medication had been intentionally increased, it could explain why his responsiveness had been suppressed during examinations.
Mrs. Gable had not simply allowed everyone to believe Giovanni had severe dementia.
She had helped create the illusion.
Twenty minutes later, Matteo returned with the medication logs.
Dr. Bellucci read them.
His expression darkened.
“He's been receiving sedatives I discontinued nearly three years ago.”
Lorenzo stared.
“Who authorized them?”
“The signatures look like mine.”
“Are they?”
“No.”
Matteo said, “Forgery.”
Lorenzo left the room.
Nora followed before anyone stopped her.
He reached the security office.
Mrs. Gable sat in a chair with two guards nearby.
She looked up.
“I want a lawyer.”
“You'll have one.”
Lorenzo dropped the medication records on the table.
Her eyes flickered.
“You forged prescriptions.”
“I did no such thing.”
“You kept my father sedated.”
“No.”
“You worked for Bellanti.”
Her face remained controlled.
“No.”
Lorenzo leaned closer.
“My father told me.”
That did it.
The color disappeared from her face.
“He can't speak.”
“He doesn't need to.”
Mrs. Gable's breathing changed.
Lorenzo saw it.
“So you did know.”
She recovered.
“You don't understand.”
“Then help me.”
“I was protecting this house.”
Lorenzo almost laughed.
“By drugging my father?”
“By keeping him quiet.”
Nora stood in the doorway.
Mrs. Gable looked at her.
“This girl has no idea what kind of family she's entered.”
Nora replied, “Neither did you, apparently.”
Mrs. Gable’s eyes flashed.
Lorenzo said, “Who is Marco planning to attack?”
She remained silent.
“Why did he want my father incapacitated?”
Still nothing.
Lorenzo stepped away.
“Fine.”
He looked at Matteo.
“Call federal counsel. Call the state police contact. She goes into legal custody as soon as the roads open.”
Mrs. Gable stared.
“You're handing me to police?”
Lorenzo's voice stayed level.
“Yes.”
“You?”
The irony was obvious.
Lorenzo did not react.
“I don’t need to commit another crime to punish yours.”
Nora looked at him differently after that.
Mrs. Gable did too.
Then the older woman laughed.
“You think prison is what scares me?”
“No.”
“Marco will kill me before I reach a courtroom.”
“Then tell me what he wants.”
Mrs. Gable's smile vanished.
She looked toward Nora.
“He wants the girl.”
Everyone froze.
Nora stared.
“Me?”
Mrs. Gable nodded.
“More specifically, he wants what Brody left with you.”
Nora’s heart pounded.
“Brody left me nothing.”
Mrs. Gable smiled.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then why has Marco Bellanti spent six months trying to find him?”
“Brody stole money.”
“Money can be replaced.”
She leaned forward.
“What Brody stole from Marco was worth much more than two hundred eighty thousand dollars.”
Lorenzo's expression hardened.
“What?”
Mrs. Gable looked at him.
“A ledger.”
Silence.
“Names. Judges. police officers. shipping companies. payoffs. politicians.”
Nora shook her head.
“I never saw a ledger.”
Mrs. Gable smiled.
“Brody told Marco he hid it with the one person nobody would search.”
Her eyes dropped to Nora's stomach.
Nora instinctively stepped back.
The room became deathly quiet.
Lorenzo moved between them.
“What does that mean?”
Mrs. Gable whispered:
“Brody hid the evidence in something he gave Nora before he disappeared.”
Nora's mind raced.
He had left almost nothing.
A jacket.
Some unpaid bills.
A cheap music box he had bought for Lily.
A stuffed rabbit.
A baby blanket.
Then she remembered.
The music box.
Brody had insisted she keep it.
“For our little girl,” he had said the week before he vanished.
Nora looked at Lorenzo.
“I think I know where it is.”
At that exact moment, every light in the estate went out.
The generator should have activated.
It didn’t.
Matteo drew his weapon.
The guards moved.
From somewhere outside came a deep, violent explosion.
The windows shook.
Then the estate alarms began screaming.
May you like
Mrs. Gable smiled in the darkness.
“Marco found you first.”
